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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337421">The Answer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_Dulces/pseuds/Dame_Dulces'>Dame_Dulces</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Fluff, M/M, Saiou Week, Saiouma Week 2020, Sick Character, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:21:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_Dulces/pseuds/Dame_Dulces</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ouma gets despair disease. (Written for Saiou Week 2020!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oma Kokichi &amp; Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>372</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Answer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… you’re saying he can’t tell any lies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saihara directed his question to Nurse Tsumiki, keeping his gaze fixed on a bed-ridden Ouma. His cheeks were completely flushed, and he had tiny beads of sweat that were starting to pool on his forehead. His chest fell in an uneven rhythm, rising up and down as his body battled a wicked fever. He looked so small and frail in this state that Saihara silently swore to stay there until his fever broke, at the very least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-that’s r-right,” Nurse Tsumiki stuttered as she twirled a strand of chopped hair. “There w-was an outbreak of despair disease on campus this week… Ouma-kun m-must’ve caught it during lecture…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She handed Saihara a cool, damp washcloth so he could wipe some of the sweat dripping down Ouma’s brow. He grabbed some ice from the bucket beside the bed and wrapped it in the cloth, then pressed it against his round cheeks. Ouma’s eyes fluttered open, and he turned his gaze towards the doting detective.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Saihara?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ouma,” Saihara said with a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired. And hot. And… kinda nervous…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because… you’re so close to me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saihara’s eyes widened, and he froze for a moment in contemplation. He knew that Ouma’s symptoms were different from the others who’d fallen ill; while most of them spoke only in lies due to delirium from their fevers, Ouma for some reason was the complete opposite. Even Tsumiki couldn’t explain why the despair disease was acting as a truth serum for him alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either way, he was going to take advantage of the opportunity to get some real answers from Ouma, as dubious as it was. It’s not like he would discover anything different about the ultimate supreme leader, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does that make you nervous?” He asked with genuine curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saihara-chan is so cute… and I really like him…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing those words set fire through Saihara’s veins and dyed his face a deep crimson. He turned back to Tsumiki and barked another question in a slightly panicked voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsumiki! Are, are you sure he can’t lie?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsumiki let out a tiny cry and put her arms in front of her face, backing up a few steps in fear of another outburst. The detective felt pity for her and wished he hadn’t yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes! Everything Ouma-kun says is his truth, I’m sorry!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, I’m sorry for shouting like that. I just wanted to make sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, his gaze returned to his purple-haired classmate, who was now sitting up so he could address the detective directly. It was odd, his face was still pretty red from the fever, but it seemed like he was actually blushing now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you liked me, Ouma?” Saihara half-whispered, feeling a little flustered himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since the day we met… but I started liking you more after we were partners in bio that one day...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he babbled on, the detective snuck his hand under the bed sheets and found Ouma’s laying limp at his side. He took it in his own and squeezed gently. It felt clammy and cool, contrasting with the heat radiating from the rest of his body. He wished he could wave a magic wand and make this sickness go away. He hated seeing him like this, even if it meant getting the truth out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you like about me?” he asked, rubbing his thumb against the back of Ouma’s chapped knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes. They’re a really nice color. I don’t get to see them a lot, ‘cuz you’re always looking at the floor. And your eyelashes. They’re so long, but they’re pretty. And the way you always ask me questions. You’re the only one who really wants to know me. And you let me lie all the time. And it’s funny when you get all shy when I make dirty jokes. And… and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was starting to ramble, which led to a coughing spree that concerned Saihara greatly. He picked up the glass of water on the table near his bed and put it to his mouth, instructing him to drink until it was all gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh. Don't push yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He placed a comforting hand on his back and rubbed circles until Ouma’s breathing was somewhat back to normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Ouma. I shouldn’t be asking questions like this when you’re so ill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind. I like it. I like you. Will you be my boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taken aback once again, Saihara choked back his own cough as he recoiled from the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we talk about that when you’re feeling better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ookay…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed until Tsumiki’s medicine finally kicked in and his fever broke, draining some of the reddish color from his skin. Ouma was drifting in and out of sleep, so he decided it was best to leave him be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to get going now, but you should get some rest. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ookay…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saihara stood up and made his way to the door, nodding to Tsumiki while she bowed so low she almost fell over. Before he left, however, he heard a weak voice trailing across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saihara-chan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Ouma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might be in love with you... I wanted to say that before things go back to how they were...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The detective’s cheeks burned at the confession, but he responded with a smile and words of reassurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They won’t, Ouma. Don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shumaaaai! I’m all better now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A childlike voice greeted Saihara as soon as he entered the hospital room. He was relieved to see Ouma up and about after laying in bed for almost a week. His fever finally broke for good the night before, and it seemed like he was almost back to his old self. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad. I was really worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awww, really? Saihara-chan was concerned about little ole me? What an honor!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ouma flashed a toothy grin while clamping his hands behind the back of his neck, which told Saihara that he really was back to normal. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed their playful banter and silver-tongued comebacks until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, do you remember what we talked about when you were sick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he asked, the signature poker face returned in full force. All traces of emotion drained from Ouma’s face as he stared back at the detective with thin lips pressed tightly together and eyes devoid of expression. It was a dead giveaway, one Saihara had learned after many long years of friendship with the biggest trickster he’d ever known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm… nope! I just remember sleeping a lot and Shumai holding my hand while I was in bed. You’re disgustingly sappy, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raven-haired man felt the corners of his lips turn up as he prepared himself for the next move, playing along in Ouma’s little game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Well, in that case, I guess I can’t answer your question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... What question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, never mind. Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you in bio, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned around and took a few steps towards the door, but stopped in place when Ouma called out to him. With his back turned he smirked to himself, knowing what was coming next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over his shoulder and saw Ouma staring at him, eyes ablaze with determination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please… tell me your answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saihara would’ve teased him a little more, but watching Ouma take off his mask to bare his soul convinced him to play nice. He mentally patted his own back, proud of himself for dragging the truth out of the notorious liar without the help of an infectious disease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave him his answer and relished the blush that crept across the supreme leader's face once the words finally hit him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Ouma. I’d love to be your boyfriend.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi there, and thanks for reading! This was written in a span of 45 minutes at 3 am when my meds were kicking in so it's not my best, but I wanted to do SOMEthing for saiou week this year so this is my meager little contribution! I hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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